Hunger Ch 02 1

After spending an evening packing things up, moving furniture and generally preparing for the building project, I was already beginning to regret my decision to hire someone to help me rebuild and redecorate. As I put all of the boxes with my beautiful things in one of the spare rooms and myself in the other one, it made me feel as if the world had stopped spinning and started doing somersaults instead. This slight change in my living arrangements was enough to unbalance me, it seemed.

At home, where I was usually happy and calm, I now felt nervous and shaky. When I tried to sit down and get comfortable I could only sit for a short while before having to stand up and walk around. It reminded me of the nervous behavior of some animal I'd seen on one of the nature channels.

That meant that being at work now actually became the relaxing part of the day, because there I could concentrate fully on the things I was working on. During the day, my head was constantly filled with today's meetings, tomorrow's deals and next week's potential businesses so I just didn't have time to worry about my private life.

Two days after meeting at my apartment Ben called to let me know that he was going to start working that afternoon. I went home to show him in and give him a key so he could come and go as he needed and let the electrician and painter in as well. One look at him in his dark work outfit made me realize two things; he was much more strongly built than I had first thought, and I obviously had a thing for working class men, tool-belt and all. Still not liking the cliché I had become, I decided to stay away from home whenever he was supposed to be there; or at least try to stay away, since he couldn't tell me the exact hours he would be working.

A couple of nights of restless sleep and days of working from sunup to sundown later, I was starting to feel drained, tired to the bone. I was absolutely decided not to go home when there was a chance that Ben or anyone else was there, but Ben had sent me a text some hours before telling me that he probably wouldn't be able to make it to my apartment that day, there was something about a water pipe bursting at some construction site.

The thought of having the place all to myself made me hurry home, intent on having a long bath and then slacking with a good book. As I walked out of the office I realized that I'd actually managed to go home at what used to be my regular time, which still was a at least one hour later than most of my coworkers. I headed for the elevator and reached it just as it said "ping"; obviously I wasn't the only person working late that evening.

A man I hadn't seen before was standing in the elevator. He was looking at his watch, frowning slightly, but as he looked up his face seemed to light up by the wide smile he gave me. I hesitated but then walked in; my home and my bath were after all calling out for me. Although the smiling man was quite attractive and there was something about him that made me think I might have met him before, I turned my back on him and pushed the button heading for the ground floor.

I didn't hear him as he approached me, but microseconds before he slid his body against mine, I could feel tiny bolts of lightning run across my skin; and then just half a breath later the front of his hard body was pressed in its entirety against the back of mine. The feelings that instantly spread through my body weren't of shock, fear or outrage but of deepest satisfaction and absolute want. In a situation where I had always thought I would react with anger or panic, I stood frozen, thoughts and actions hindered not by fear but by the delicious warmth of pleasure running through my body.

Before being able to think, speak or take any action against his nearness, be it unwanted or not, he started whispering soft, unfamiliar words in my ear. His warm breath tickled my skin, sending rivulets of liquid heat down my neck and back, adding to my confusion.

"Sasha," he whispered with soft words "you are absolutely perfect! That outfit you're wearing is exactly what I had in mind, so strict and cold."

With a soft groan he started kissing my neck, slowly searching for and finding a special spot of concentrated pleasure I hadn't known could be found in such an easily accessible place. His hands started caressing my arms, pressing me closer and between kisses continued his whispers.

"That cold, hard surface hides all of your fire. I'm the only one that knows the real you; that you're made of laughter, passion and pleasure; that you're burning inside, waiting for me to set you off, shooting for the stars."

With a slow tug he pulled my gray silk blouse out of the color matched skirt and slid one hand underneath, my skin burning for his touch. As he started running his warm, rough hand down the front and side of my stomach, still pressing me close, I could feel his erection pushed against my tense butt. His words and his body were telling me something I hadn't been told, or possibly hadn't been able to hear and understand, before. In the beautiful language of passion and arousal I was being informed that I was a warm, living, lovable creature and that he wanted me with all the sexual power within him.

I let out a silent groan as my body started moving with his in a sensual dance, pressing and rubbing in surprisingly natural movements of pleasure. I felt a hard, urgent heat surging through my core and I whimpered, obviously loud enough for him to hear. His answering groaned "Sasha" and the way he started licking, sucking and kissing that delightful spot on my neck again made me cry out "ohh" in a long, soft whisper. His warm, rough hand found his way to my small, eager breast, caressing me with gentle strokes, closing in on my small, puckered nipple.

"Absolutely perfect," he breathed into my ear "small, perfectly shaped and just crying out to be touched, licked and pleasured..."

I was stuck in the whirlwind of my own passionate response, not a thought of the indecency of our almost public activities. As his one hand found its way inside my bra and began circling and flicking my nipple, his other hand caressed its way down my body reaching for my skirt and starting to pull it slowly upwards.

His whispered "I wonder if I can find any more hidden treasures" did nothing to break through my hazy thoughts, nor did his hand caressing its way up my naked thigh, but as his steady hand cupped me and I felt his warm fingers against my warm, wet lips some of the heady desire lifted. In one last attempt at a warning my body signaled "stranger touching taboo parts of body" and some of my sanity returned.

I'm not sure how I managed to untangle myself from his arms but with an agonized "Noo" I pulled away and pressed my back against the elevator door just as it opened with a "ping". Almost falling I fought to right myself before turning and running away from him. His surprised "Sasha, what?" followed me out into the lobby, where I was stopped by the doors, locked at this time of the day.

"Sasha, wait," he called as his quick steps came closer "what's wrong?"

Not successful in my desperate attempt to unlock the door and get away, I heard him closing in and turned to put my back against the door, fear finally finding its way back into my life. Hand held out towards him begging him not to step closer I fought to calm my now panicked breaths.

"Sasha, please tell me what's wrong," he pleaded "wasn't this what you wanted?"

"I'm not Sasha," I managed to squeeze out between my white, trembling lips "my name is Susan."

"What, wait, what, I don't get it, you're not, you're not Sasha?" he stuttered.

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut around the tears I could feel were gathering in them.

"I don't understand? I'm in the right building; it's the right day, the right time," he mumbled "and you look absolutely perfect."

I looked up in time to see him stare at me with doubt in his eyes, as if to say "are you sure you're not Sasha?"

All of the tension in my body broke in a wave of sadness and I started crying, realizing in that moment of absolute clarity that this was someone's idea of a joke on my behalf. I guess it wouldn't have been that much of a problem setting it up for someone who knew how regular my work schedule usually was. I just didn't know that there was someone that hated me that much, to want to cause me anything from embarrassment to potentially getting seriously hurt.

I felt him step closer, hesitating a short moment before he pulled me into his strong arms again, this time set on soothing and comforting me. The fear had been washed away by my sadness, and I accepted his kindness as I had accepted his passion such a short time ago.

With a soothing voice he started telling me that he had met Sasha online a couple of weeks ago, that they had sent each other messages almost daily, that she had described her person, her lifestyle and her clothes in a way that made me realize why he thought I was her.

"I'm so, so sorry! I should have asked you if you were Sasha," he said with his mouth pressed to my hair "then we wouldn't be in this mess! I'm sorry I pushed myself on you, that I scared you and that I made you cry! It was supposed to be a game between me and a woman who was quite determined to be seduced in an elevator..."

His words stopped pouring out of him and I could almost hear the thoughts whirling in his mind. Even if the joke was supposed to be on me, he'd also been tricked and lied to.

"I'm sorry," I said to him, my voice low and troubled "I think someone at work must have done this to the both of us. I just don't know why anyone would go to this much trouble to either have a laugh at my expense or to hurt me."

He shook his head and pulled me closer. The way he held me and rubbed a warm hand across my back felt wonderful. I imagined it was the way a mother or father would sooth a sad child in need of comfort. Troubled thoughts of my upbringing, severely lacking in human warmth, started making their way up to the surface, but I pushed them back with great effort and then tried to separate myself from his warm embrace.

"I am sorry, you know" he said, relaxing his arms and stepping away "and angry, if this was done intentionally to hurt you."

"I'll be fine," I told him, pulling myself together "I just want to go home."

"I can drive you anywhere you want to go," he said, perhaps not thinking the thought all the way through. He seemed to realize kind of quickly that I probably wouldn't want him to know where I lived as he added "or I could call you a cab?"

I nodded and we walked out the door that I'd finally been able to unlock.

"My name is Jerry, by the way" he told me with half a smile. He reached into his pocket and hesitantly handed me a business card. "Please contact me if you need my help to track down the person responsible for all of this. Or perhaps if you want to get together for dinner sometime?"

I shook my head at his suggestion and he shrugged before walking away to find me a cab. Not many minutes later I was sitting in a car, finally heading for home.

My apartment was feeling cold and lonely as I entered it, still wary and even more tired than before. With heavy steps I dragged myself into the bathroom and started filling the tub. I then sat down on the floor, leaning my head against my knees, trying to sort through my confused thoughts but failing. It was just too much to take in, so I sat there, head spinning, eyes dry but body, heart and soul aching in profound sadness. Being alone was one thing, feeling lonely was another and at that point I felt lonelier than I ever had.

After another bath that didn't calm me and a salad that didn't taste anything I went to bed, hungry for food as well as for companionship and perhaps love.

- - - - -

It felt like I had slept mere minutes when my alarm signaled that it was time to wake up. I slowly got ready and went to work, my steps still heavy and my soul grieving, not because of someone or something I'd lost, but because of something I'd never had.

I didn't feel my usual dedication and absorption at work that day, and thankfully I didn't need to make any big decisions or meet too many people. Half a day passed by with paper work and administration occupying most of it. I spent the lunch hour in my room eating a granola bar and rechecking numbers but was interrupted by a commotion outside my room. I opened the door in time to see an angry man being escorted from the premises. As he saw me he started yelling that I was a worthless, cold bitch and that he wished I would burn in hell. I recognized him as the man I had reported to Management some weeks before, the man that used all hours of the workday to emphasize his own excellence and stealing the credit for other people's work.

The angry man managed to sidestep the two burly security guards and ran up to me, arms waving wildly. Too shocked and stunned by his anger I didn't manage to avoid the heavy slap he aimed my way and when his hand hit the left side of my face hard I fell backwards landing heavily on the floor, biting my tongue in the process. The kick he aimed my way was blocked by one of the guards, as the other one managed to control the still waving hands. With quick, precise movements the guards then managed to take the man away and I was left there sitting, still stunned, my face throbbing with pain.

Two women that I didn't know the names of helped me up and one of them whispered "thank you for getting rid of him". I knew that most of the persons that had been mistreated by the man were women, and through the pain I felt happy that I had been able to help them.

I walked unsteadily into my room, helped by the two women. I could tell by their frowns that they were worried about me and as I walked I tried to catalogue my injuries. My cheek felt painful and strangely numb at same time, my tongue was bleeding, my butt felt black and blue, and I had pulled a muscle in my back.

"I think you should go see a doctor!" the woman that had thanked me said, when I sat down slowly, trying to navigate around the pain in my body.

"Or at least go home and get some rest," the other woman said "let me call you a cab, please."

I thankfully accepted her offer, packed some important papers and walked out of the office, hours before I usually did. Things really had been going from bad to worse lately I thought to myself as I stood waiting for the cab to arrive. The cab driver's stares made me realize that I looked as bad as I felt and I didn't say many words to him except to ask him to get me home as quickly as he could.

I limped into my apartment and threw my bag and jacket in a pile by the door. After painfully extracting myself from my strict office clothes and putting on a pair of comfortable jazz pants and my favorite t-shirt, I sank down in one of the armchairs in my living room, absolutely exhausted. Before being able to summon the strength to fetch some painkillers I felt my head grow heavy and I fell asleep curled up in one corner of the big chair.

* * * * *

At first I didn't realize that she was at home, not being able to see or hear her, but as I started carrying my tools into the living room, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, that didn't really fit in. I turned around and saw her sitting there fast asleep in one of those large, comfortable armchairs she owned, feet pulled up, hair freed from its usual constraints. She looked so soft, young and adorable curled up in that chair. Reading the printed text on her colorful t-shirt, I almost laughed aloud. "I rock... in my birthday suit when I'm home alone" it read. Somehow I didn't think that text was quite accurate.

I fetched a blanket that was hanging on the other armchair and started to gently cover her with it when she suddenly twitched in her sleep, and the hair that had been covering her face was pulled away. The shock of seeing her swollen and bruised face made my lungs temporarily unable to function properly. All oxygen left me in one great puff of air and when I tried to breathe in again, all I could do was take small, ineffective mouthfuls that didn't seem enough to let my body and my head function properly, at least not at the same time.

Before I had the chance to step away and collect my thoughts, she stirred and woke up, her body going stiff, as if she was frightened or perhaps in pain. With a groan she put a hand on her face and then looked up and saw me standing there, one hand still holding a corner of the blanket. As sleep cleared from her eyes I could almost see the tiny gears in her head spinning. She didn't seem afraid of me; it was almost as if she was slowly analyzing what she was seeing, absorbing everything before making some kind of decision. She looked at me, my hand, the blanket and finally back at me again. I could tell the exact moment where she realized I had been trying to make her more comfortable by spreading the blanket over her, because her eyes became round in surprise and her lower lip started trembling.

My usual softheartedness, accompanied by a fierce need to protect this obviously mistreated woman, made me fall down on my knees and reach for her hand.

"What has happened to you," I asked her, voice low and soft "has someone hurt you?"

Silent tears started running down her face and with a wince she nodded.

"Please tell me" I begged her, feeling a useless anger building inside of me and trying to press it down again. She didn't need anger right now, she needed someone to listen to her and comfort her.

"One of my coworkers," she sobbed "got angry because I reported him to Management."

With great effort she tried to pull herself together and continued with a sad and slightly bitter tone in her voice, pointing to her face.

"This was his goodbye gift."

I didn't know what to say, words stuck in the angry storm raging inside of me. There was nothing I hated more than senseless violence against women, children and animals. I wasn't a big believer in retribution, but at that moment my instincts called out for it. Reining myself in, I concentrated on her situation and her needs until I was filled with a calm sense of purpose. I stood up and pulled her out of the chair by the hand that I was still holding. She rose with careful movements and I could tell she was in pain. Obviously it wasn't just her beautiful face that had been hurt, but other parts as well. Anger sent whispers of smoke trying to cloud my judgement, but I held the thought of her comfort firmly in mind, again staving off the need to run off and hunt down the person responsible for her agony.

"You need painkillers first of all and then a long bath" I said with a decisive nod.

She accepted my statement with a slight nod and started shuffling off to her big bathroom; shoulders slouched, leaning slightly to the left, an obvious sign that her back was causing her pain.

Filled with restless energy, but not able to concentrate on building the shelves I'd been planning to start on that day, I moved my tools away from the living room, then folded the blanket up and righted the chair. I sat down in the kitchen area for a short while, wondering if I should leave or stay to make sure she was alright. It wouldn't feel right to leave without saying goodbye, I decided, and after thinking about what I would want if I was feeling sad, I made another quick decision that a batch of my grandmother's comfort food would be just the thing.

Happy in my decision to help and glad that I had found a good way of keeping busy I looked through her cabinets, fridge and freezer to find something I could use to make her some delicious, Italian, homemade food. She had salad and some canned tuna, but nothing I could use to make any of the hearty meals that I felt were needed, given the situation.